


Safe

by fizzysodas



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dreams, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8643199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzysodas/pseuds/fizzysodas
Summary: Newt comforting Credence from a dream.





	

Dreams are a complicated mess of things. Good things, bad things, made-up things, real things, and everything in-between. Dreams would show you your greatest moment, greatest memory, your happiest thoughts. Dreams would also show you your worst fears, worst memory, and darkest times. Dreams bring alive what you push down and forget. Dreams—

  
A shallow gasping scream echoed off the walls, startling Newt into dropping his quill. Ink spread onto the paper, blending the words together. He cursed under his breath, quickly moved the quill aside, and pushed himself away from his desk.

  
Another scream echoed off the walls, Newt quicken his pace. He slowly creaks open the door, waiting. Another scream and pitiful whimper made him push open the door and barge into the room. His leather boots creaking and scraping against the poor wood. His coat dirty and ink drops splattered the cuffs. He hadn’t taken off the coat in two days and hadn’t slept in at least twenty-four hours. He liked to live like this, though.

  
The idea of working into the early hours of the night, downing coffee, quick naps, and hard work enthralled him. He lived for this. He devoured the words and spell of black drippy ink. He breathed the solitude of it and it made him smile. Of course, sleep was always welcome and the food was needed. But the other luxuries that he dropped for this life? No. He could live without it.

  
“Credence?” he whispered.

  
Then, there had come Credence, a skinny, pasty pale boy who lived on the edge of blackness. Who screamed himself awake and cried himself to sleep, who cowered at anything moving, and whispered his words in the oblivion of nowhere. Credence had wiggled his way into Newts busy, tireless, life. For any normal human Newt would have turned them away, but Credence was…Credence was different.

  
“Credence, wake up.”

  
He was sitting on the bed now, his hand on Credence’s shoulder and the other caressing his hair. Credence was leaning into the touch but still lost in that dark dream. Another pitiful whimper escaped his mouth. Newt scooted closer, leaning over the boy; his breath was hot against the boy’s cool skin. Newt pulled up the blanket and hugged the boy closer, pulling him up into his arms.

  
“Credence, darling.” Newt murmured into Credence’s ear. He was waking up.

  
His eyes fluttered open, a wave of panic settled over them before Newt could say anything Credence was sobbing into his coat. Newt swallowed. It’s dirty, he thought but let Credence sob into it anyway.

  
“Shh…” hummed Newt, running his finger through Credence’s hair. He felt Credence lean into the touch, sobs still racking his body.

  
“You’re here now,” whispered Newt, “With me and the animals. You’re safe.”

  
Credence nodded furiously against Newt’s coat, rubbing his face with dirt and tears. Newt hummed gently, pulling himself and Credence down onto the bed. He pulled the covers over both of them, kicked off his boots, and slid out of the coat. Credence clutching and sobbing onto his the whole time.

  
While Credence sobbed Newt ran his finger through his hair and whispered soft things into his ear. His hair was longer, still hideously cut but longer. Credence hated his hair. When Newt had first found Credence, he barely said anything. But over time he began to grow confident in asking for things, more food, clothes, a book or two, and to grow his hair out.

 

 

_Credence was shyly standing outside the door, clutching the frame. His breath was quick and precise. Newt glanced up and jerked his head, beckoning Credence to step into the room. The room smelled of dirt, ink, and paper. It was a wonderful smell, one that Newt longed for. It was comforting._

  
_Newt put down his quill and closed his journal. He scooted out of the chair and lead Credence towards the bed. The bed still made, looked stiff and gray. He never slept in it, he always fell asleep in Credence’s bed after a nightmare or at his desk. Whenever he did that huge ink blot spread onto his face, the first time it happened it had sent Credence into a fit of giggles, that Newt never washed it off in the mornings. Only coming downstairs to see Credence smile softly and laugh under his breath._

  
_“What’s wrong?” asked Newt._

  
_“I-I want to grow out my hair,” mumbled Credence, not looking Newt in eye and fiddling with his sleeve. It was picked and old, but it was better than the thin cheap suit that he wore back then._

  
_“Of course.” replied Newt, smiling his awkward smile._

  
_Credence glanced up, uncertainty in his eyes like he was waiting for the catch. Newt only smiled._

  
_“Thank you,” said Credence, breathing out softly. Newt smiled and turned back to his work. His lack of reply might have bothered others, annoyed them. His lack of eye contact and twitchy-ness did that too. Credence, though, never seemed to mind. Hours later Credence fell asleep on Newt’s gray bed._

 

 

 

His sobs decreased to a whimper, then a silent cry, then nothing. He was breathing softly into Newt’s neck. His arms were wrapped around Newt’s torso, his body perfectly tucked in Newt. Newt gently ran his finger through his hair.

  
“You’re safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm supposed to be working on my larger Hinata/Kageyama fic but Credence and Newt got in the way. Sorry, not sorry. But honestly, their just so cute! I could talk about them all fricking day, but I have a family. Happy Thanksgiving, guys! Have fun, spend time with family and friends, and be thankful! (:


End file.
